


Cupid's Bow

by sirthatsmyemotionalsupport



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed, just a little... - Freeform, the usual amount
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 00:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17632610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirthatsmyemotionalsupport/pseuds/sirthatsmyemotionalsupport
Summary: "What troubles your mind, Hamilton?""My mind rests on kissing."Valley Forge. A completely useless, sickly sweet little scene of the Boys kissing for the first time. Slightly Dub-Con if you take issue with the two of them being rather tipsy at the time, but apparently people drank a stupid amount of alcohol during the American Revolution so here's to that.This is my first ever fic, so please be kind, and leave comments!! :-)





	Cupid's Bow

Amid the ever-lacking resources and general tedium at Valley Forge, the men always seemed to find a way to raise their spirits. Often this required an ample supply of...well, _spirits_ , which the good General did his best to procure to sustain the health of his tattered army. As a rule, Washington detested drunken rowdiness in camp. If he couldn’t have a proper army, they could at least act the part. But he could never deny the vivifying effect of good liquor, and the General couldn’t find it in himself to deprive the poor boys a bit of comfort in this hell.

And so, after a day of endless translation and transcription, the aides-de-camps set aside their papers for the night to share a bottle of rum by the fire. It was already deep into the night when Meade began recounting the Battle of Brandywine.

"There I was, face to face with a Queens Ranger!—"  
"Oh please we've heard this one already!" interrupted Gibbs.  
"Well then you know how I sent that Ranger running straight into the woods then, do ya?" replied Meade, rum blurring the edges of his words a bit.  
"Is war all you ever think of? Why not some other tale tonight?" offered Harrison, with a tired expression.  
"What else would you have us talk about, Harrison?" Laurens asked, smiling.  
" _I_ know..." gleamed Hamilton, leaning forward with a smile which made Laurens' stomach flip. "...might we not turn our attention to those fair women, whose charms make war so worth fighting for."  
"Yes! Indeed, Harrison is that more to your liking?" cried Meade. Harrison met him with an exasperated sigh.

Laurens smile never faltered, but the turn in conversation had struck a note of panic in his breast. Though he was no stranger to the fairer sex, he couldn't help his disinterest. He worried that he might say something wrong. He worried what might happen if the men somehow discerned his... _unnatural inclinations_. It certainly didn't help that the rum had pinkened Hamilton's cheeks so...

"—on my life I swear it! Why she could hardly look at me without blushing for shame after that!" Hamilton declared, raising his eyebrows in mirth.  
Laurens chuckled. "Yes, Hamilton, we best find you a wife soon so that you can stop terrorizing all the poor girls." Hamilton scowled in reply.  
"Perhaps we should postpone such a task until the morning. We must rise early to convene with the Baron," Tilghman yawned.  
"Yes, and we'd better not waste any more of those," noted Harrison, looking at the waxy puddle of what was once a candle.

The men rose gradually from their seats scattered around the room. They blew out the remaining candles, reserving a few to guide them to their rooms for the night. These days Hamilton and Laurens had a room to themselves. In the last few weeks, being in such proximity to one another, the men had grown closer than ever. They spent many nights awake, discussing the direction of the war and the necessity of manumission. They also spent many nights working side by side in silence. In the evenings John often composed letters to his father while Hamilton scratched away at some proposal to Congress. Sometimes, John would take advantage of the moment to sketch Hamilton in the candlelight. He could render those hands from memory now.

Holding the light before them, Hamilton led the way, shoes creaking on the worn boards. Laurens felt himself sway as he followed close behind, reaching for Hamilton's sleeve to steady himself. _Exactly how much had he had to drink...?_

"Almost there..." whispered Hamilton.

They reached their rooms and closed the door behind them. The bedroom seemed dark and cold compared to the fireside company they had enjoyed. Laurens shivered as he removed his coat, staying close to Hamilton's warmth as they made their way to bed. Hamilton placed the candle next to the bed and pulled at his boots. Laurens, distracted from removing his own stockings, watched Hamilton fall back as his boot gave way. The man stretched out next to Laurens, who was still watching him as he settled his auburn head atop the pillow.

"Is there something on your mind, Laurens?" Hamilton inquired, with a soft smile.  
"Mm." Laurens finished removing his stockings and pulled his feet up onto the bed. His limbs were drowsy with rum, but he couldn't relax. He felt the other man's presence distinctly. His ears were filled with the cadence of Hamilton's breathing—slower than usual, due to exhaustion and alcohol. Hamilton's hair fell in a mess of curls on the pillow. His shirt rode up as the man stretched out, pulling away from his breeches.

"I don't think I can sleep yet, Laurens. Would you stay up and talk with me awhile?"  
_Always_.  
Laurens slid down and settled on his side to be closer to Hamilton's face. Hamilton mirrored Laurens' position, propping his head up on one arm. Stray red hairs caught the light from the candle and made a halo around his head.

"What troubles your mind, Hamilton?"  
"My mind rests on kissing."  
Oh.  
"Kissing?"  
"Yes, I miss kissing. In camp, there is no room for such things, at least as I have no wife here with me. But I miss it...before I enlisted in the army I was seeing a sweet young girl. Not courting of course, only curing each other's boredom for a while. She wasn't entirely too bright, but she had a fine round face and lips which could drive a man to madness!" Hamilton rambled on, looking beyond Laurens into the distant rosy space of his memory. Trying to keep quiet, his voice was thick and raspy. Laurens swallowed, feeling Hamilton's breath warm on his face, warming the small space between them.  
Laurens struggled to find something to say. "Imagine that: Alexander Hamilton, wretched without kisses. And here I was under the impression that no girl was immune to your charms ..."  
"Hah! Indeed. Well, even I cannot be faulted for the simple lack of kissable ladies about here. I suppose I'll have to go elsewhere for my kisses."  
"Elsewhere...?"  
"Mm." Hamilton licked his lips then, unconsciously. Laurens couldn't help but stare at those lips, so near. They had a beautiful shape, with a deep Cupid's bow and a slight curl to one side where Hamilton would often smirk.  
"Laurens?" Laurens' eyes snapped up to meet Hamilton's again.  
"Yes?"  
"This may be the liquor moving me to speak so foolishly...but, Laurens if I asked you for a kiss, would you kiss me?"  
"Hamilton, I hardly think that appropriate—"  
"No of course, only...what would be the harm of it?"  
Laurens had to admit that the offer was more than enticing. But he shouldn't give in to such feelings...or else he might lose control and put them both in danger.

And yet...

And yet, what _would_ be the harm of one simple kiss, exchanged in darkness, in secret, between friends? And there was Hamilton, maddening as always, pushing boundaries to just see how far he could go...

He reached one hand out, touched the corner of Hamilton's mouth with his thumb.  
"Have you ever kissed another man before?" Hamilton asked, an expression of genuine curiosity on his face.  
"Hamilton, please—"  
"Alexander"  
"...Alexander" Laurens repeated.  
Hamilton tried again. "Honestly, I mean it. Have you?"  
Laurens paused for a moment. He remembered fresh green grass in Geneva. He remembered blue mountains framing the sky, and a young man with curling hair and soft lips...  
"Yes, I have."  
"Mm. You continue to surprise me, John." _John._ Hamilton's eyes shimmered even in the dark. "Is it...different, from with women?"  
Hamilton seemed so young to Laurens then even if he was only 3 years his junior.  
"Mm, it is. I don't think I can explain..." He knew he should stop talking, end the conversation there. But he felt so warm, his mind wandered idly. "With men, it's more of a conversation. Equal footing. Of course, everyone is different..." He shrugged.  
Hamilton put a hand on Laurens' neck where he was sweating beneath his collar. _Hadn't he been cold moments ago...?_ He shifted his body even closer to Laurens until all Laurens could see was the shadow of Hamilton's face. Laurens took a sharp breath and watched Hamilton close his eyes and lean in.

At first, he kissed Laurens softly, uncertain of himself. But soon he came to life and took up the challenge, pressing harder and moving quicker. Laurens hesitated, but not for long. He melted under Hamilton's ministrations, his thumb stroking Laurens' neck in rhythm. Hamilton's tongue pressed at the seam of Laurens' mouth, and Laurens parted his lips in response. They continued for a time at a languid pace, swimming in the heat and breathing ever louder. When they parted for breath, Hamilton smiled like a proud schoolboy.

"Alexander, you've taken my breath away yet again." Laurens chuckled and Hamilton smiled even wider.

Then, Laurens leaned in again, this time pressing Hamilton to lay back so Laurens hovered over him. His torso covered Hamilton's own, Laurens' knee bumping up against the other man's side. Laurens kissed him hard this time. He tasted the rum on Hamilton's mouth, along with the taste of bitter coffee, and the salt of sweat. His hands found the sides of Hamilton's face and weaved into his hair, upsetting his queue. Hamilton responded with enthusiasm, pressing up into the kiss, nipping at Laurens' lips. He was letting out small strangled sounds that made Laurens' chest tight. Laurens ventured to press kisses to the corner of Hamilton's mouth, his jaw, his neck. Feeling inspired, Laurens took Hamilton's earlobe into his mouth and sucked. Hamilton grasped at Laurens' clothes, all but squirming from the sensation. Laurens used one hand to loosen Hamilton's cravat, and, pushing the fabric aside, left a bruising kiss just beneath his collar.  
Hamilton gasped. "God...John. Mmm."

Laurens pulled away to look at Hamilton, glowing in the candlelight, hair a mess, clothes askew. His heart throbbed.  
"Ah, John, I wish we could pass our days and nights like this always."  
John chuckled. "Don't forget, Alexander, there's a war to be won."  
Laurens stroked his thumb against Hamilton's cheek and, reluctantly, fell back beside him.  
"No, I haven't forgotten. But, can't we enjoy ourselves as well?"  
"Well, neither of us are going anywhere for the moment. At least for the winter while our army gets back on its feet...and we'll have this room..."  
"Will you be upset about this in the morning?"  
John sighed softly. "No, I don't think so. I've...I've been thinking of you, all the time. I don't think that will change..."  
Hamilton smiled, sleep pulling at his eyes.  
"But...I _will_ be upset if we don't get any sleep before tomorrow morning."  
"Mm. Yes, you're right." Hamilton yawned. "We must report to our beloved Baron for yet more secretary work. How could I forget…”  
John snickered and tucked his legs under the covers.  
"Goodnight, John."  
"Goodnight, Alexander."

**Author's Note:**

> Alcohol Consumption during the American Revolution: http://ushistoryscene.com/article/american-drinking/  
> George Washington and Alcohol: http://www.drinkingcup.net/1758-george-washington-and-the-tacticle-use-of-alcohol/  
> The aides-de-camps: https://www.nps.gov/vafo/learn/historyculture/washingtonsaidesdecamp.htm
> 
> I hate how they talk about women but let's be honest; I think this was pretty accurate going by Ham's letters and Laurens' complete lack of personal responsibility for his family LMAO big yikes. Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Might write more eventually :-)


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